


Blue Neighbourhood

by mendbrokenhearts



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, M/M, SnowBaz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-05-13 18:30:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5712706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mendbrokenhearts/pseuds/mendbrokenhearts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon has dealt with a lot of things in his life.</p><p>Simon worked on getting strong again and worked on being independent. </p><p>He doesn't need anyone to keep up with life's hurdles. </p><p>Most of the time. Except Baz maybe.</p><p>Until Christmas comes around and everything shatters into pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. for him.

 

SIMON SNOW

 

I slowly make my way into our flat, deliberately making no noise as much as I can. Until my paintbrushes, along with my phone and keys, slip out of my bag and scatter on the floor. Because of this, a loud thud followed by small clanking noises made itself audible and reverberates around the very big, empty corridor. It seems to echo longer than it normally should, as if there are no other sounds in the apartment to cover it. After a few minutes of standing there in a confused daze, I crouch down to pick everything up. Pain shoots up my back instantaneously in the process.

 

_ As well in the other parts of my body, quite frankly.  _ I thought to myself.

 

I continue to pick up my belongings.

 

“This day couldn’t have been better.” I sigh out loud. Or not so loud. It was a sigh-whisper. I start putting the things back into my bag, making sure I zipped it this time. I check my phone for any cracks. None. Good. I take out my earphones from my bag’s pocket and plug it in my phone, then I only place one bud into my ear. The left one. I press shuffle and wait for my phone to pick a song, all the while every bone in my body is screaming at me to just fucking  _ rest.  _

 

I catch a thought materializing in my head.  _ You’re doing this for him.  _ __   
__   
Coincidentally enough,  **for him.** by Troye Sivan starts blasting through my earphones. My lips curl up into a tight smile as I start humming the lyrics and the melody of the song. I hastily finish picking up what’s left of the things scattered around my feet. A slightly cold breeze passes by and dissipates the headache starting to form inside of my skull. Which makes me notice that all of the windows in our flat were left open. Odd. It’s still as quiet and empty as it is everyday when I come home.    
  
I try to listen to the sound of silence, which is really weird when you put it that way, yes. But when I just take a few seconds to try to concentrate on something that doesn’t exist, feel it rove around me, it makes me feel fear along with a strange sense of forsakenness. Because the apartment is usually thrumming with life when Penny constantly roams around, and Baz would be sat on the sofa all day, a book in hand.   
  


For the past two weeks it has been this way. I would always come home to no one. Up until it’s really late or even for the entire night. It just feels like I’m located far away from everyone and everything else. Pure remoteness.    
  
I make my way to my room and let my bag fall to the ground in my own accord. I threw an envelope unto my desk, something that I kept hold of in my left hand this whole entire time. I blankly watched it slide until it stops around the center. . 

 

“Finally.” I mumble. “First paycheck. Maybe I am doing something right after all.”

 

My thoughts are cut when I hear shuffling. The bathroom door was being held open by (a quite fancy looking?) Baz coming out of it and I feel my blood getting colder in my veins as I remember something.   
  


The pay-check.

 

My eyes go wide and swiftly hide it behind my back to prevent Baz from noticing it. My boyfriend’s eyes scrutinise me with suspicion and curiosity, then his face goes blank as if he never showed any emotion at all. He turns around and heads toward the front door. My eyes fall to the back of his neck and I feel a sudden urge to jump on him to kiss, tease, caress him all I want. I miss him. A lot. But he’s giving off a cold vibe, telling me that I know I can’t do it.

 

My attention gets captivated by something else. He’s dressed up. It’s past 8p.m and he normally doesn’t have any classes after 6p.m so he doesn’t have anywhere to go anymore. And he’s  _ dressed up _ . Why is he dressed up?    
  
“Why are you dressed up?” I ask out loud. He ignores me. He’s thumbing through his keys.

 

I venture. “Hey?” 

 

“Hey, Simon.” His tone is inscrutable. That doesn’t stop me from going on.

 

“Where are you going?” I ask and I take a step forward. He has stopped thumbing through his keys because he found the key to the door and he’s just standing there. He huffs.    
  


“Out.” 

 

“Yes b-but, I mean like-- where?”

 

He finally turns his head to glance at me, but it only lasts a few seconds before he sighs and turns his head to the door again. Suddenly I feel weak.

 

“Out. Just like you were.” 

 

He leaves and the door slams. I wince. I keep my eyes shut. And I just breathe.  _ Good job wanting to be optimistic about today. _ At least he didn’t see the pay check. 

 

And at that exact moment, the stress and anxiety I’ve been holding in for the past few weeks comes crashing down on me. Unleashed like a thousand rocks have been dropped on my shoulders. My limbs that felt numb before are now aching insanely. These confrontations with Baz aren’t rare. Well, they were-- until recently. It seems that I just don’t have the force, physical nor mental, to try and handle these kind of situations, to fight for something. Baz has been on edge lately, pissed off and distant. Cold. At first I thought it were his exams that were stressing him out, leaving him tired and busy. But even then when it was two weeks after they ended, nothing cooled down like I hoped it would, it only got worse. So I mentally crossed _‘exams’_ in my mental notes for : _List Of_ _Reasons Why Baz Has Been Upset These Past Couple of Weeks_.  
  
I’ve tried approaching him, tried figuring out why he was acting this way, thought of ways to fix all of this mess. But nothing ever worked. Deep inside me, this thought keeps trying to break through and it frightens me. Frightened that, this, _us_ , isn’t working anymore, that he got tired of me, that he can’t handle me. That he lost interest in me. That he doesn’t want me. Me, I’m the reason.

  
  


Breathe. Inhale. Exhale , Simon. Trying to regain my sanity, or at least what’s left of it. I open my eyes again. My panic didn’t disappear. I feel the world blurring up by each passing second.I try to focus, but fail. I rush to the bathroom feeling bile bubbling in my throat and my stomach churning. And all I hear in my head, is his voice constantly repeating the word  _ pathetic _ , over and over again. 

  
  


**_PENELOPE BUNCE_ **

 

The red light suddenly turns into green. All the cars that were patiently waiting, find themselves moving forward once again. The highway is packed. I wouldn’t expect less in the middle of December. It’s late in the evening and everyone is making their last preparations regarding the gifts they’re going to give their loved ones in less than a week. It’s everyone’s favourite time of the year. 

 

_ Almost. _

 

These last days have been really busy for me since I’m helping my mom at Watford before Christmas break starts over there, apparently so many things need to be done and she needed my help. It seems like a few teachers have been taking days off before the holidays and she needs someone to take care of those classes so she thought it’d be a good idea to ask me. And it is, she knows that’s what I want to do in the near future so teaching fifth graders about magic is a pretty good deal for now. Therefore my time at home is really minimised. 

 

_ Home. Simon. _

 

I feel my heart clench as I think of him. I classify myself as the ‘Worst Magical  Best-Friend Anyone Could Ever Have’’. I haven’t been there for him these last weeks. And I feel horrible about it. I keep apologising unconsciously to him but he just keeps staying that it’s “Totally fine don’t worry Penny I’m okay, focus on what’s important”. And that’s ridiculous because that’s what he is. But I don’t even see him anymore, he disappears all day or stays in his room. He doesn't eat anything, and doesn’t talk that much. Which is so unusual because he’s always cheerful and bubbly. I feel like he’s starting to remind himself of the events that happened this time last year, and I don’t want him to. Absolutely not.

 

As I get closer to our flat, I notice a tall figure going out of the front door hastily. I recognise it as soon as my eyes catch a glimpse of him.

 

“What happened.” I say under my breath. At that same soment, my phone buzzes on my lap.

 

_ ‘won’t be here tonight. don’t wait for me for dinner. -B.’ _

 

Guess I’ll be eating on my own tonight. 

  
  


****  
  


SIMON SNOW   
  


The acidic taste was not leaving my mouth. Whenever I splash freezing water on my face, I rinse my mouth out quickly afterwards.  I seize hold of myself through the bathroom’s large mirror. The bags under my eyes are substantial while my eyes are bloodshot. Makes me look like I’ve been crying for more than a century. My skin is so pale, with some shades of blue, so much that it unexpectedly makes my freckles stand out more than the usual. I look so helpless and feeble that it almost makes me sick again. 

 

December is the least joyful month of the year for me. Which is ironic because for literally everyone it’s the exact opposite of how I feel about it.  _ The most wonderful time of the year _ . It’s the one season I hate the most, or the only one I hate at all, actually. But it’s not because I’m the fucking Grinch, It’s not because of the raw and bitter air. I don’t have anything against snow. Not that one. It always has been, even before what happened after last Christmas. It’s still something I can’t explain. I can’t find the words to say why. I feel like misfortune is always around the corner just waiting for me this time of the year. Maybe it’s because all throughout my life, the most terrible things happen to me during December. And even though I’m no longer in the orphanage, no longer in foster care, and no longer in constant fear of the Humdrum, I feel like this year is the worst one. The hardest one. Recalling all those memories. And I’m doing it all alone.

 

_ Pull yourself together Simon _ . I clutch my half-done tableau from under my bed along with my binders, canvas, gouache in addition all the rest of my art goods and chattels. I know Simon Snow + art wouldn’t be the usual combination to come through anyone’s mind. The idea of it was like 2 + 2 = 84. It never crossed mine, either. Until I had to choose something to do to pass the time or help in making me feel sane again. I don’t exactly remember how it all happened, or how this idea came to mind. But one day, I just woke up and decided to spend the day out. I ended up coming back home with tonnes of things I bought in the city and added up to that the stuff I found on Amazon. I legit spent half of my funds on it. Even Penny doesn’t know about this. Every time I eventually try to bring up the subject I feel uncomfortable. So I keep all of my belongings hidden under my bed. I never thought I could paint, or do anything else for that matter. But this turns out to be the only thing I’m pulling off. But not today. Each time I stroke the hard paper with my paintbrush my hands seem to twitch and shake incessantly. I shove my things under the bed and forget about what I was trying to paint. Shooting stars and silver moons. My head keeps throbbing and it makes me feel like I’m deprived of oxygen. My mind’s making shades of purple out of red and blue, and the aftertaste of my vomit gives my mouth a feeling that’s like a warped and twisted taste of honey, sickeningly sweet. A concoction of that and sour and bitterness. I glance at myself in the mirror one last time before getting out of the bathroom. I go to my desk and put the check inside of my bag. I grab my phone and sink into my bed. I turn it on and **for him.** was idly paused, the album name, singer and title running across the screen. I turn it off again and let my arm drop beside me as I find myself subconsciously humming along to the song that was non existently playing. 

 

There were only five words in my mind before I let myself drift into sleep.   
  
_ All I need is him. _

  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Ease

_The only light lightning up the room was the moonlight quivering through the large windows of the kitchen. I let my empty glass fall in the sink as it makes slight clanking sounds. I carefully start making my way back to my room, when the front door swings open._

 

_Baz, probably thinking everyone’s asleep, tip toes inside the house. My hands move by themselves and reach his shoulders. I gently yank him towards me. He tenses up to my touch, not knowing who just wildly grabbed him, until he whips his head around in defense._

 

_“Jesus, Simon! What the hell?” he yells not caring if he’s making too much noise anymore._

 

_Since when does he even say Jesus? Where did the Aleister Crowley go?_

 

_I flinch and loosen my grip around his shoulders to finally let my arms fall down to both of the sides of my body. He sneers at me._

 

_The anger i’ve been feeling starts to rise up. I can’t just silently stand here, weakly , when he goes out until 2a.m and acts this way._

 

_“Wait? What do you think you’re doing? Who the fuck do you think you are?” he jerks his head with surprise._

 

_I kind of understand him, it has been so long since i’ve talked this way, with this tone._

 

_“Pardon?”_

 

_“What do you mean ‘pardon’? You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t act like you’re so surprised.”_

 

_“Can you stop blabbering? I don’t get what you’re saying”_

 

_“Where have you been?” My voice sounds so weak now._

 

_“That’s none of your business”_

 

_That’s it._

 

_“What do you mean that’s none of my business? I’m your fucking bloody boyfriend!”_

 

_This comes out as a scream._

 

_“Yes. I said that’s none of your business. Now leave me the fuck alone.”_

 

_If I could still go off, the entire neighbourhood would probably blow up right now. I feel weird. Really weird and unusual. As if I’ve been struck by lightning. I can almost feel sparks flying out of me and a stingy feelings sticks to my chest. I need to do something. About whatever’s going on between us. I take a few steps forward, blocking the way to our room. Maybe this will do. He won’t touch me. He can’t._

 

_But oh boy was I wrong._

 

_Our eyes lock for a second. He looks scary. The scariest I’ve ever seen him look. He throws a contemptuous smile at me and shoves me out of the way._

 

_I can’t take this anymore. My hands fly to his chest and the second thing i fall to the ground, feel unconscious for a few moments and come back to my senses after a while. My view’s blurred out by smoke. Each sharp intake of air make my lungs hurt. What just happened? Where’s Baz? What did I just do? Did I go off? Did my magic come back? That can't be. It's impossible. Did I hurt him with it?_

 

_“Baz?”_

 

_I call out for him. Once. Twice. Nothing._

 

_I start roaming around the room, the smell is unbearable and I can’t see anything._

 

_Until I spot him. I freeze. My heart stops beating for a second there. Until panic rises up inside me. I rush to his side. Is he okay? He looks so pale. More than his usual paleness. I touch his forehead. It’s so cold. I stare at his lifeless body. He can’t be dead can he? I didn’t kill him. I brush his lips with the tip of my thumb.I didn’t. Baz is so powerful , so strong. I couldn't have killed him._

_A ringing sound keeps playing in my ears._

 

_Once the first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream._

 

_I’m a fucking monster._

 

_“You did the work for me didn’t you Simon Snow?”_

 

_My body goes stiff._

 

_“You killed the Mage, you killed the heir of the Grimm-Pitches, you did it all yourself. The Insidious Simon Snow that is.”_

 

_The Humdrum. He’s here._

 

_He’s right before my eyes. With my face. My body. Smiling at me._

 

_“There’s only you left now.”_

 

_____________________________________

 

 

Though my eyes are open I can't think of why; my heart is pounding, mind empty. It's as if a hypodermic of adrenaline has been emptied into my carotid. I strain into the utter darkness, breathing rate beginning to steady. Until I remember my nightmare.

 

It wasn’t real. It wasn’t. The Humdrum. Baz. Is he okay, he’s not by my side. My bed’s empty. This has to be the worst nightmare I’ve had since last year. By far. I’ve had a series of them, these past weeks. But the mere thought of me killing Baz, getting my magic back and the Humdrum coming back, makes me go insane again. My hands start to shake. I know what’s coming.

 

The thoughts are accelerating inside my head. I want them to slow so I can breathe but they won't. My breaths come in gasps and I feel like I will black out. My heart is hammering inside my chest like it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin. The room spins and I squat on the floor, trying to make everything slow to something my brain and body can cope with. I feel so sick. I think of calling an ambulance but the phone is too far away, it's too far away, it's too far away. I don't know who to call, what's their number, who to call, too far away, not him. He's gone.

 

Breathe.

 

Gone. Like every other night. I'm on the floor in a ball- the foetal position. The room’s spinning. Where is he. Fuck. Just fuck. I can never handle panic attacks on my own. Penelope’s usually here to help me calm down , hence she uses some spells on me to make my breathing go steadier, to make the thoughts in my mind flow properly.

 

I try my best to reach for my phone, with my shaking hands. I do the first thing that comes into my mind and put music , thinking it might calm me down. With my quivering fingers, I finally press on EASE by Troye Sivan. His angelic melody starts beaming through my phone’s speakers. I drop it to finally take in deep breathes and hold myself together.

 

**“Now I'm down to my skin and bones**

**My baby listens to me on the phone**

**But I can't help feeling like I'm all alone, all alone**

**The truth is, the stars are falling, babe**

**And I'd never ever thought that I would say**

**I'm afraid of the life that I've made, I've made”**

 

I whisper the lyrics to myself. This song is describes my life so perfectly it hurts. Troye Sivan’s voice never fails to sooth me, even at my worst times and I couldn’t be more thankful.

 

**“Take me back to the basics and the simple life**

**Tell me all of the things that make you feel at ease**

**Your touch, my comfort, and my lullaby**

**Holdin' on tight and sleepin' at night**

**Holdin' on tight and sleepin' at night”**

 

My breath’s steady once again. I’m not sure I can go back to sleep now. It’s around 4a.m and work starts in 3 hours. I sigh. The sigh fluttered on the winds like a butterfly decorated with a perfidy amount of colours. A sigh. Desire and disgust. Streamed through the air. A sigh. Disappointment and gladness. Decorated the air leaving a path. A sigh. Of relief and worry. Leaping through the air like a dear. A sigh. Of happiness and sadness. Dancing through the air. A sigh. Of excitement and fear. Strolling through the air like a roller coaster. A sigh means it all.

 

This is the most I’ve felt since a long time. Everything that just happened shook me up a bit too much. I decide that it’s a good time to start painting. I reach out for my tableau and brushes. When my hand moves over the canvass it's almost like my mind is directing my hand without me, odd perhaps, but that's the way it is. My hand moves instinctively to the right spot, building a new picture, often one I have never seen before. In these fantastical worlds I see reflections of my own mind, the way I think, but there is something else there too. I don't know what, perhaps I just imagine it, but when I paint I feel so many things it gives me a peace I cannot find another way.

 

Art is part of our human soul. It is dreams emerging from a part of ourselves, a way to communicate with the deeper self of both the artist and others. The same piece evokes different emotions depending on the person, their mood, their time of life. Art is pictures; art is sculpture; art is the creative word; art is music. We are all artists in our various ways, all born to be creative.

 

I read that in a book I found in a library. I was walking home after work and I felt like discovering the surroundings of Belvedere road since I worked there. I had found a cute library and ended up discovering this book named “ART”. The front cover was really appealing to me so I started reading it and ended up staying there for an hour or more until the librarian came to tell me they were closing they were closing.

 

Funny thing is that’s what got me that much into painting.

I also bought a painting the other day. Penelope didn’t question it. I was quite thankful for it. The painting dominates the walls, every colour is bold and painted with such precise lines that it almost looks like a mosaic. They are curved yet sharply defined; they seem to stable but tumble at the same time. Like me I think, so stable but always in free-fall inside. I am soft but can lampoon people who spark my anxieties without meaning to. I am bright but I often feel painted onto the background, like there really isn't anything of substance inside.

 

And I hope there is. I hope there is more meaning in my bones than tumbling colours, chaotic and shallow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry this is so late! school has been stressing me out and i haven't found the time to write and add to that the huge writer's block i had! 
> 
> but i really hope you liked this!
> 
> this chapter is a bit short, but i am quite content with it! also huge credit to daisy because some of her words made her way to this chapter and that helped me tons!
> 
> make sure to leave comments if you want to! that would help me out a lot!
> 
> hope you have a nice week angels <3


	3. 3. Wild

Waking up is no longer the pleasure it was. There is a fleeting moment when I am whole again but it evaporates faster than summer rain off the burnt earth. Then my lids that were drooping and leaden with sleep snap open as violently as if I’d been woken by raids sirens wailing. The clock next to my bed says 6am.

 

I run a hand through my bed-hair, -feeling a migraine coming my way- and painfully get up to start getting ready for the day ahead of me. Technically, I had one hour left to be ready for work. I head to the bathroom and strip down. The water pours down, it drips by my side, as my mind fades into dullness and everything is a foggy illusion. The sensation of the steamy water calms me; it takes my mind of things. All the things I honestly don't care about. It's the water. My mind swirls, and it's like I'm standing under an everlasting waterfall. Ever so beautiful, but it can never last, I know that now. I quickly get out of the shower, knowing that if I stay two minutes more, I’ll end up staying there the whole day. Taking care to not glance at the window, I put my underwear on followed by some black clothes since it’s required for work. Not even bothering with my hair, I put my coat on and grab my packed bag.

 

I had wished for snow but all that came was driving freezing rain. On the street there was nothing crisp, pretty or clean, just some old snow that had become dark grey with the pollution belched out by the passing trucks and cars. The near gale wind made an umbrella impossible and so the best that could be done was to wear a full length raincoat and tighten the hood around my face. Even then the cold was bitter and after only minutes my skin felt raw and my lips turned blue. Sunlight struggled through the dense grey cloud above, but the morning was as overcast as a late afternoon. Today is rainy day walking - every person with their head down and moving at maximum speed. Those with umbrellas take wider berths of one another, the rest take care to duck when the spokes come their way. The sound of feet on wet paving stones is almost lost against the splashing of the traffic, only the click of high heels still clear. The usual smell of the fumes is dampened by the hazy drops and every face is on the blank-stressed spectrum - at 6:30 am it's always the same. The street looked like an unfinished painting. So much of the canvas was still perfectly white, as if waiting for the artists hand to return. The morning light struggled through the murky cloud, but even in its weakness it was enough to blind. In 10 minutes time, I reached my work place.

 

The café huddled despondent among the huge city buildings. Washed out under the overcast sky, it hunched in itself, fighting against the drizzle. Hundreds of people rushed by it, outside on the crowded street. The half a dozen customers glanced up as the door swung open, heralded by a blast of cold wind. Unlike the outside, the interior of the café was warm and cheery, with bright lights and colourful walls. The customers returned to their conversations as the door swung closed behind the new entrant and the cold breeze was forgotten. Starbucks was a nice place to be working at, you could get yourself some free drinks at the end of the day, all of my co-workers were pretty nice.

 

But it’s fucking exhausting. I mean Starbucks in central London is bound to be full 24/7. I head to the changing rooms, get my green apron and pin with written my name in bold white italics on it. I greet Alex on my way, who’s the nicest work partner out there. She’s my roughly my age- if not a year older- and smiles a lot, maybe even too much for her own good. She has long blonde hair and blue eyes, different from mine or from anyone else’s. I’ve never seen eyes like hers before, they beam and shine with so much happiness. Maybe that’s what makes them so different from mine. We talk a lot. She tells me a lot of stories like how she’s from Estonia but she never really felt like she belonged there. She even invited me to a cello concert she was performing at. (I had no idea what was a cello before she mentioned it and ridiculously asked her if it was eatable). I ended up going then having a sleepover at her house which made me discover that we had the same burning passion towards any Studio Ghibli movie, and resulted in us having a movie marathon and not actually sleeping for the whole entire night. That’s how our we became close and it feels so good. So good knowing you have someone who doesn’t know anything about your life’s hurdles.

 

 

__________________

 

 

 

**2pm.** The headache I woke with is thickening like day old stew. I’ve broken 4 cups and mixed up 5 drinks already.

 

_"Tired?"_ Alex smiled at me.

 

_"No no, I'm fine."_ I muttered , rubbing my eyes fiercely.

 

_"You’re lying."_ She poked my arm lightly, hoping to get a reaction out of me.

 

_"Okay, maybe a bit"_ I moves my arm away from hers and sigh at my confession.

 

_"Don’t thank me but I told the Manager you were feeling a bit drowsy so you get the rest of the day off and you’re still getting your last paycheck tomorrow!”_  She’s smiling so happily I’d never take her for granted if she told me she met Aliens on her way here and they gave her a billion pounds.

 

I give her an honest smile back and hug her with all my might.

 

She’s taken aback but still takes me in her arm. The warmth of being with another human being and being happy made me want to fix everything between me and Baz even more.

 

After all, I had everything prepared. Our anniversary was tomorrow and after that everything will be back to normal once again.I’m sure of it. Nothing could go wrong this time. I rush to the changing rooms, slowly take off my apron to shove it back in my locker. After grabbing my coat and putting it on, I decide to avoid going out from the back door for once and to use the front one instead so I could get myself a warm coffee before leaving. Until I see something I probably never thought I’d ever see and it feels as if my voice and breath were caught in my throat.

 

Baz was sat at a round table, looking as beautiful as always with a boy I’ve never seen. Panic hits me, first because Baz shouldn’t see me here and second because:

 

The boy was perfection in coffee hues; his hair and eyes were the colour of dark roasted beans , with shades of green but his skin was all latte. He had that kind of smile, with bright white shiny teeth that wouldn’t allow you to look away from him. His presence was so important - far more than mine - He was skinny although not too much , but the way his clothes hung gave away the muscle beneath; and always in his wake were heads turning to watch him go. I suddenly felt a rush of self-consciousness wash over me.

 

Who could that boy be? Someone from University. Probably. They look like they’re together though and that thought especially makes me go crazy. I could go ask him if he is cheating on me. But I'd get found out. Baz hasn’t smiled at me this way for what feels like months. He hasn’t looked this relaxed for what feels like years.

 

Baz had his legs crossed and was tapping his Ray-Bans on the coffee shop table, his hair was even neater than usual and his jacket was new. He pulled out a chair for him and he looked up from his phone, smiling in a sweet way he did when he was about to talk about something that made him very happy. The guy put his latte down gently and smiled just the same way. They smiled at each other, they looked like lovers. Heck more than we would look like I thought to myself. Jealousy and envy but at the same time betrayal wouldn’t leave my mind. Was I not good enough?I knew this day would happen and Baz would get tired of me and everything would be done for me. My head started spinning. I felt a wild panic attack coming my way and decided it’d be better for me to leave. I start running. I head out as fast as I can.

 

I was cold, even with my sweater and my coat, but it didn't matter. Tears blind me and I turn, running as quickly as my long legs can carry me, bolting down the alley way like an Olympic champion at the start gun; quickening my pace to an all out sprint. The pounding noise of my new stan smiths resonating off the walls of the alley with a clanging echo that matched my heart throbbing inside my chest with the thick grief and fear I felt as I ran. One time when I was climbing up a tree, trying to get Agatha’s ribbon, that unexpectedly flew away, I dozed off and fell ten feet to the ground, landing on my back. It was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from my lungs, and I lay there struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything. And it’s exactly how I’m feeling right now. The late afternoon was illuminated with that special cold, pale light only winter's sun could give, and the rain from this morning made everything glow with a really slippery ice. It was clear that if it rained again, it would fall snow instead of water from the sky. With that revitalizing cold and the soft air, I was stupidly afraid that my tears might freeze as they were falling over my face, but they only kept going down and making my cheeks feel even colder than the rest of my body. Leaving aside my broken, frozen heart, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i have to apologise because i haven't updated for so long and i'm SO sorry but you all know the story: school and life's hurdles. very very short chapter but don't worry; i'll definitely finish this no matter what! anyway,, make sure to leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed this! love u tons

**Author's Note:**

> Love you angels.


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